


Gone Before Sunrise

by Tangerine



Series: Gone Before Sunrise/Dangerous Addictions [1]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-09-26
Updated: 2000-09-26
Packaged: 2019-02-27 12:54:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine/pseuds/Tangerine
Summary: Originally written in 2000.





	Gone Before Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2000.

I always considered him to be more my brother's friend than mine, just a man who hung around with Scott solely to get at his girl. Needless to say, I didn't like him. It was a common complaint. If it wasn't the arrogance that bothered me, it was this sense I got from him, this feeling that he couldn't be bothered to talk to me because I was that much below him. Some rational part of me realised that I couldn't take it all that personally because he treated everyone else with that same cold disregard.

So imagine my surprise when I saw Mr.Warren Worthington sitting _alone_ in a bar, glaring at the wall while he drank some over-priced, rich-boy drink. And he sipped, the arrogant bastard, couldn't just chug like the rest of us. Or drink beer, some cheap brew that only college kids could stomach, that spoke of poverty and very strong need to be drunk, _that_ would have pulled him off his crystal perch. Asshole. 

Where all this hostility had come from, I wasn't sure. I'd always resisted the urge to punch him whenever he got too cozy-cozy with Jean, especially if Scott was standing there and watching the pompous jerk woo his girlfriend. My brother was like that, tolerated the idiot more than Worthington deserved, but hell if I didn't want to deck that pretty face just once for doing that to my brother. 

People thought I didn't like Scott; people didn't know shit about me. 

I originally went out to relax, so I was more than pissed at having to share the same space with the X-Men's resident blond himbo. I was still sober enough to accept I was being the jerk, that Worthington hadn't done anything yet to deserve this present bout of wrath, but it didn't mean I stopped hating him for even a split second. 

What a bastard. I ordered a drink \-- _beer_ \-- and sat back on the stool, watching the back of that perfect head. What a fucking bastard. Fuck him. And fuck Lorna too. We've lost something, Alex, I don't feel that special oomph anymore. Oomph? Who the fuck used that word anymore? Eight years, we'd been together for eight years, and she just brushed me off, just like that, like I didn't have a say, like I didn't still love her. She didn't even wait to leave; she was gone before sunrise. 

Fucking world. I stared into the piss-yellow beer, wondering when my life had become such a joke. Scott evidently got all the luck in the family because while he was happily wed, I was sitting by myself with a brew and determined to get drunk. This was going to be my life, I decided, and fuck anyone who tried to stop me. I was sick of all of it. 

Fucking world. 

And Asshole Worthington hadn't even bothered to notice me at the bar, the fucking idiot. What a stupid bastard he was, so absorbed in his own little world that he couldn't even lift his eyes to stare at the less fortunate. What a fucker. And of course, if he did see me, he'd take one look and laugh himself sick. That's how he was. Always laughing at everyone else, in that high and haughty way he had, as if he wasn't just as screwed up as the rest of us. 

I just wanted a drink, just wanted to escape the world of mutant heroes for a little bit. I'd found this bar tucked in the back of nowhere, hidden by garbage and two huge bouncers, and somehow, even in the pits of hell, I couldn't outrun the wonderful world of X. 

"Here," the bartender said, giving me another beer, and I looked at it, wondering when I had asked for it. I couldn't possibly be so drunk that I couldn't remember. I had one fucking pint of watered down shit. "It's already paid for, buddy. Don't sweat it." 

I took the glass and looked around, trying to guess at who ordered it for me. It was the good stuff, the over-priced import ale that tasted like actual beer. Worthington was talking to some kid, probably a freshman from the nearby college, and I blinked long and hard, gulping the beer over the span of a minute before standing up and walking to the table. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I demanded, scaring the boy away when I smacked my hand down on the table, rattling the glasses, and Warren looked up at me, smirking. "I don't need fucking handouts from you." 

"You drank it, didn't you?" He replied calmly, sitting back and crossing one leg over his knee, regarding me with a halfway-hidden smile. "So sit down, Alex. It's pathetic to be drinking by yourself, and since you just scared off my new friend, turns out I'm drinking solitary, too." 

"I don't like you." 

"No one does, Alex. You think I care?" He asked quietly, sipping his fucking martini as he looked at me, eyes as blue as the ocean staring out from beneath golden brows. "So, Alex, will you be joining me or are you going to wallow in your misery alone?" 

So I sat at that fucking table, pissed mad and not quite sure why I didn't just walk away. Maybe part of me was hoping he'd irk me just enough that I could beat the shit out of him and not feel the slightest bit guilty. "Who says I'm wallowing?" 

"When a Summers wallows, the whole world knows, Alex." 

I waved down the waitress and ordered another pint of beer, biting my tongue when Warren ordered the same fucking thing. "At least I have a good reason for being here. I don't, for once, see you bemoaning your cruel life." 

Warren grinned and shrugged, resting a palm on his flat stomach as he leaned back in the chair. "My life is fine. I'm actually here to get laid, have a little anonymous sex before going back to my responsibilities. Unlike you, Betsy dumped my ass months ago and I have more than rebounded." 

"You're disgusting," I hissed. 

"Hardly. I know what I like, what makes me feel good, and if enjoying sex makes me evil, then I should be pitying you for being so close-minded. Ever just fucked for the hell of it? Given yourself full body to someone you knew you were never going to see again?" 

I didn't answer him, didn't want to prove to him that I had only ever been with Lorna and Maddie, the stud that I was. Instead, I tactfully changed the subject. "Don't most women get freaked out by the wings? Last I heard, mutants were still high on the to-hate list." 

Warren leaned forward and grabbed my hand, bringing it rudely beneath his tight shirt and against the small of his back. It felt normal. "Like it? Hank calls it a Tactile Image Inducer. Thanks to technology, I'm just like everyone else." 

"Lucky for you." 

"Very." Warren paid the waitress as she set the drinks down on the table, covering my tab. Again. I wanted to hit him. "So let yourself go, Alex. You obviously came here for that expressed reason. I must admit that I am surprised to see you here. This doesn't seem like the type of place you'd frequent." 

I put my beer down, licking my lips clean. "Why not?" 

"I suppose I assumed you were as unrelentingly straight as your brother." 

I narrowed my eyes and looked around again, a fearful sort of feeling descending rapidly in my belly. I almost caught on when Warren was chatting to the college kid, but I should have seen it immediately when I noticed the lack of estrogen in the room. "Actually, until now, I had no idea this was one of those bars." 

Warren tightened in his chair, losing some of the cockiness, and I found myself realising why the worldly playboy Warren Worthington was sitting here, waiting for sex to fall in his lap, what he wanted, _who_ he wanted. 

"I won't say anything about this to anybody else," I offered pathetically, feeling like shit suddenly, more for being a leader who hadn't notice _anything_ but also for putting him in this position. "Our secret." 

"Well, thanks," Warren said quietly. "I'm not quite ready to be outed." 

"You're actually gay?" 

"Bisexual, actually," Warren responded sharply, picking up his glass between unsteady fingers and chugging a mouthful of ale. "But in this world, it doesn't really matter. I came here tonight simply because it's incredibly underground, anonymous, where I know nobody and they don't know me." 

"So why don't you just go and pick up a woman? Wouldn't that be easier?" 

Warren laughed at a joke I obviously didn't get. "Evidently, you've never been with a man, Alex, or else you'd understand why I'm here. I've been with women, hundreds of them in my life, and you're right, it was easier, but I want someone who knows my body completely, someone that will fuck my brains out and make my world explode in a union of two positive forces meeting. I don't expect you to understand, and if that makes you think I'm a pervert, I don't care either. I never asked to be judged by you." 

I hummed into my drink, lifting my eyes to look at him, and I saw something in that face I never had before. Humility. He did care, and it bothered him to think that I was assessing him. I couldn't even deny it because I had been assessing Warren since the moment I first saw him. 

"Where are you going?" I asked suddenly as he stood up, draping his leather coat over his shoulders as his arms slid into the sleeves. "You aren't driving, are you? You've been drinking since I came here. It's not safe." 

"I have an apartment just down the road," Warren responded, dropping bills onto the table, and his fingers lingered there, supporting his weight as he leaned forward. "Do you have a ride back to wherever it was you came from?" 

"No." 

"Then you're coming home with me. Scott would kill me if he found out I left his little brother alone in a gay bar, for more reasons than one," Warren added, lips curled slightly in a smile that erased his previous discomfort. "I won't bite, Alex." 

And the way he said that sent shivers down my spine, but I followed him all the way back to his loft, saying nothing as I walked, slightly drunk but not enough to make the world spin. And Warren didn't speak to me, not one fucking word, didn't even look at me. What the hell was his game? 

"I'm not going to sleep with you," I said suddenly, stopping when Warren began fumbling for his keys. This was obviously the place, and it was just Warren's style, trendy and upscale, a total rich-boy's haven. 

Warren turned on me, raising one perfect eyebrow. "I never assumed you were planning on it, Alex. Contrary to what you might believe, I have been known to do things out of the goodness of my heart. I was not going to leave you there alone when it's obvious you don't give a shit about the world at large." 

Warren gave me no chance to respond and walked up the steps to the small apartment complex, typing a code into the electronic lock at the door. Grandly, he ushered me in and checked his mail as I went to wait for the elevator. Idly flipping through bills, we entered the lift together. 

"Take the guest room," Warren said, unlocking the door to his loft, not even looking at me, so completely immersed in the world of wealth that he couldn't even be bothered. "There are towels in the closet if you want to get the stench of smoke off you." 

"What are you going to do?" 

Warren smiled this infuriating smirk as he dropped the letters on the table, already shrugging off his coat. "Well, since you scared away my fun, I'm going to retreat to my bedroom, watch porn and jerk off. Have a good night, Alex." 

And he left me with that, disappearing down the hall and shutting a door behind him. I shook my head and went into the guest room, shrugging out of my smelly clothes and wrapping a towel around my waist. The urge to beat the shit out of Warren was still strong, but I was calmed down enough to appreciate being given a room to stay in for free. Scott would not have appreciated me calling him up at one o'clock in the morning, begging for money I didn't have. 

Soon, I was beneath the warm spray of water and washing the unpleasantness of the evening from my skin. Shit. How had I found myself in _that_ bar of all places? I was trained to notice things, and I had marched in there, eyes wide open, and hadn't notice a single thing amiss. 

And now, I swallowed hard as I lathered my hair with sweet-smelling shampoo. Now, Warren was in his room, lying on his bed, probably naked, probably hard, probably not even aware that I still existed. I could see him too, could imagine how his face would look all calm and controlled as his hand worked his dick. 

So the next question to enter mind was the obvious one. Why the hell was I picturing Warren Worthington masturbating? So I decided to shift gears, picturing a nice woman, blonde, with huge breasts, seeing her work herself with her fingers, in and out, nice fluid motion, the type of image that had always gotten me off before. 

And then suddenly my buxom blonde wasn't so buxom anymore. The hips slimmed and disappeared, and I was faced with this grin, this arrogant, infuriating grin on this face I didn't want to be seeing. Come on, woman, don't leave me with this, don't leave me with _him_. 

When I realised I was half hard, I nearly hit myself. Great. Just fucking great. I dressed with fury, pulling on a dry pair of sweatpants before stopping to realise I hadn't put any clothes on my bed. It wasn't my bed. And these weren't my clothes. That fucking bastard. 

Warren was in the living room, leaning forward as he flipped through a magazine, resting his chin in one hand, and I stomped up to him, dressed in his pants. "What happened to your night of porn, Worthington? And I told you before, I don't want your handouts." 

"I didn't think you'd appreciate going around naked," Warren replied wearily, not bothering to look up, "and my VCR happened to conk out and eat the tape. I should be blaming you. Until you decided my peace offering was some sort of mortal insult, I was assured a night of passion with someone far more pleasant than you." 

"You are such a prick." 

"Aren't I?" Warren's voice was flat when he said it, and only then did he look up, eyes angry. "Listen, Alex, whether or not you want to accept it, I'm not the one being an asshole here. In fact, I think I'm being nothing short of a gentleman. Just because your life is falling apart doesn't mean that it's your right to take your frustration out on me." 

"You have no idea ...!" I started, venomously seething with rage, but Warren cut me off, standing up and facing me on equal grounds, that fucking beautiful face so cold and emotionless, but those eyes, hell burned in them. 

"I have every idea, Alex! So Lorna dumped you. So _what_? I can list on two hands how many women have tossed me to the curb, and I actually loved some of them! Welcome to the club, Alex, you're officially just like me. Scary thought, isn't it?" 

Warren just shook his head, making me feel like the fool. Maybe I was one because when I looked back on the evening, I realised he'd been nothing short of tolerant tonight, with me moaning and groaning about how much my life sucked and how much I hated him. 

"Would you like some coffee, Alex?" Warren asked, walking into the kitchenette and making a racket as he poured water into the pot, transferring it to the machine. "You know, I don't even blame you for being so hostile. We all deal in different ways. When Betsy dumped me, I went out and whored myself for a full week. It was disgusting." 

"And you're not a walking cesspit of disease?" 

Warren stuck his head out of the kitchen, drying his hands on his pants as he laughed. "Hey, I'm the walking condom machine, and Hank, lovely friend that he is, caught me on one of my more careless binges, testing me for ailments I can't say without cutting out my own tongue. Look at my arms. I look like a heroin addict after Hank's most recent bout of tender, loving care. Thankfully, I'm well passed the six months mark now." 

To prove his point, Warren rolled up his sleeves and offered his forearms to me, smirking. "No kidding," I murmured, touching my fingers to one of the larger bruises. "Shit. Did that hurt? Was it worth it?" 

"Worth losing myself completely? Yes," Warren said as he pulled away, vanishing into the kitchen and returning within seconds, two steaming hot cups of coffee in hand. "Double cream, right? And Scott is double sugar. I always found that odd." 

"Odd enough to remember it for eight years?" 

"Yes," Warren replied simply, sitting back on the couch and stretching out his legs, the loose shorts lifting to reveal an impressive length of blue skin from sharp ankle to bulging thigh. I looked away. Fuck. "See. Isn't this nice when we're both calm and sedate?" 

"Wonderful," I muttered, staring into the swirling recesses of my mug. I was more than grateful when my hair rushed before my eyes, blocking my alarmed expression. This was just great. Just fucking great. 

"Alex, you're tensing up again," Warren commented idly, deadly serious, the exact type of voice I would never have expected from him, so I looked up to see if he was laughing at me. He wasn't, not at all. If anything, he appeared almost sympathetic. "Anything I can help you with?" 

"I don't think so." 

"You sure?" Warren leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I can give you anything you want, Alex, anything at all. Just say the word and I'll do all that I can to help. If not, maybe you should put the coffee down and just go to sleep. That helps, too." 

"Have you ever just been so comfortable with something that the minute it's gone you realise there's this whole other facet of who you are that you've never even explored?" I mumbled it through dry lips, not able to look at anything but the dark hardwood floors. "I mean, you must understand because ... we are very similar." 

"Do you remember when we were kids, and I walked in on you coming out of the shower and we got into this huge fistfight because you felt I was looking at you funny, but when Scott showed up to break it up, you turned it into some story about him and his honour. Just to completely shatter your opinion of me, I spent many a night jerking off to that image." 

I couldn't help it, I laughed and blushed and smiled, but I didn't try to run away, didn't really want to go anywhere at the moment because it was so completely comfortable, nice in a way. Warren was right; I hadn't ever lost myself in another person just for the sake of being gone for awhile. "I never apologised for that." 

"Of course not. You're a Summers. I've accepted you're always right, and to be honest, I _was_ looking at you funny," Warren confessed in a hush, grinning a boyish grin, looking so ... so absolutely attractive. "You have no idea how sexy you are, Alex." 

How Warren had gotten that close to me without me realising he was all but sitting in my lap, so near that I could feel the breath of every word hit my cheek like a warm kiss, I wasn't sure, but he was there, and I was there, and I muttered stupidly, "thank you." 

"You're quite welcome," Warren replied, "so now I'm going to bed. Sleep well." 

I stared at Warren as he left, just like that, after that comment and all the tense buildup. I was a bit insulted he _didn't_ try anything, I mean, not that I was expecting it, really, just that he should have at least tried because, as rusty as I was, that was definitely some sort of prelude to something, a proposition or a plea or an offer of good times. I wasn't a total stick in the mud, not like Scott. So I could have said ... yes ... or something. Warren could have at least tried. 

I stood up and walked to the window, looking out across the sleeping city. Lorna was out there somewhere, happy as hell to be rid of me. Maybe she was cheating on me, that made it easier, the idea that at least it wasn't something I had done. Maybe this guy just happened to be nicer than I was or more scholarly or better looking. Maybe. 

Maybe they were fucking right now in our bed. Maybe he was sucking her tits as he pumped her full of his dick while she screamed his name. Maybe. 

Or maybe she just dumped me because I was a loser. I mean, if Warren Worthington wouldn't try anything with me when I was down and out, I really was pathetic. That kid he was trying to pick up looked just like me, a younger version almost, so why wasn't I worthy of the infamous Angel libido? 

Before I understood what my legs intended, I was already in Warren's room, uninvited and unwelcome, but the lavish room was empty, the king-size bed still made and the lights off. I'd been abandoned in search of someone more willing, someone younger and smarter and handsomer. Story of my life. 

My back arched as a hand came upon my belly, holding me still against a firm chest. With breath caught in my throat, I moved to look behind me, but hot, wet air hit my neck, lips brushing along the stubbled length of skin, and I froze. 

"Waiting for me, Alex?" 

He was so cocky, so sure of the reason why I stood trembling in his bedroom, and I wanted to punch him, to bruise that handsome face just for thinking he knew me. I wasn't like that, I didn't do things like this. I didn't just fuck for the hell of it. At least, I hadn't. Until now. 

A determined hand came up under my chin, raising my head as those lips began to suck on my neck, viciously, and I knew there would be a bruise to show for it, a huge purple mark on my skin to remind me of what was about to happen. 

"Let go, Alex," Warren murmured, pulling me roughly against him, naked already. "Let everything go, Alex. It's only me now, Alex, me and you, and we're going to fuck, do you understand? You can feel me already, and in the morning, you're not going to regret because things like this have to happen sometimes just to remind you that you're still alive." 

"Won't Scott be upset when he realises you fucked his little brother?" I asked quietly, the light sarcasm in my words being washed away by the throaty sounds of my desire. 

Warren laughed, licking my shoulder, a slow and sensuous lick that turned my skin into molten lava, and my knees went weak under me, shaking as I realised how incredibly hard I was in my sweatpants. I was so comfortable with Lorna, never needed to look outside and realise what I was missing, didn't understand what I was giving up when I swallowed my desires to be only with her. I forgot this part of me to worship her completely, and in the end, it was all for nothing. 

"Alex, do you want me to fuck you? To make love to you?" 

Warren grabbed my dick, hand folding over the bulge in my pants, and I bucked against him, hard and fast, lifting on my feet as I leaned back against him, his other hand still pressed against my throbbing neck. 

"Alex?" 

"Do it." 

Warren turned me around and crushed my mouth in a bruising kiss, pressing me against the wall as he ground his crotch into mine. The shock of having another dick nestled in the indent of my hip quickly passed, and I kissed back with need, swallowing his tongue when he offered it. 

I was giving him the lead, letting him have my precious control. Outside, in the world, I was the one people looked to when making decisions, the one that bore the weight of the future on his shoulders, but in here, in here, it was Warren's playground. 

I shouted out when Warren dropped to his knees, yanking my pants to my ankles as he licked the head of my cock, tonguing the slit. Balls nestled in the cradle of his hands, he licked from base to tip, tracing the vein as I hardened into steel, weeping for his touch. Rolling my sac between his fingers, his mouth swallowed me whole, and I was in that tight throat, thrusting because it was all I could do. I came with a roar, and he swallowed it all without choking, though it seemed like an unending rush of fire into the depths of his body. 

Urging my feet out of my pants, Warren ran his palms up my legs, tickling my skin with my own body hair. I found myself thinking I had never actually had a blond lover, so it was odd to see the gold sparkling in the moonlight as it reflected the shine of the night and know it wasn't mine. When my fingers tangled in the mass of silk on Warren's head, he looked up and flashed a charming grin. 

"Have you ever been with a man, Alex?" 

I shook my head dumbly as he tugged me to the bed, kneeling down first upon the comforter and waiting for me to join him. 

"Have you ever thought about it, Alex?" 

I nodded, finally looking at him, and it pained me to admit it, but if I was that beautiful I'd use it as much as he did. He was one of those stunning people who were so flawless and gorgeous that it was hard to believe they were real. The blue of his body faded into grey without light, his skin dulling to an almost normal shade, and he sat supported by his arms, kneeling with his feet by his hips, wings resting on the bed. 

"Have you ever thought about it with me, Alex?" 

Again, I nodded, recalling those times when we were both teenagers, when he was the worldly brat and I was Scott's baby brother, but in the shower, under the sheets in my room, I sometimes thought of him, wondered what it would be like to be with a man. When Lorna came into my life and stayed, I stopped thinking of him. I could never have imagined that now, years from those innocent times, he would be perched on a bed, waiting for me and wanting sex. 

"What did I do in those thoughts, Alex? Did I do this?" His fingers dipped into the thatch of blond pubic hair, settling aside an angry, erect cock. "Or this?" His left hand lifted and brushed across his well-formed chest, pinching a hard nipple between thumb and index finger. "Did I lick my stained lips and say, mmmm, Alex, you taste incredible?" 

"Something like that," I confessed breathlessly, watching him move like a serpent, wholly sensual, painfully sexual. His hand moved on his dick, fisting the dark shaft, and he threw his head back, rolling his shoulders. "You did that, too." 

"And what did you do, Alex?" 

"I watched and waited for you to touch me, to acknowledge me and make me into something new. I said, fuck me, Warren, I want to feel alive," I murmured, aware only of my own blood coursing through my ears while my heart pounded like thunder in my chest. I was hard again, painfully so, and it took every ounce of control to leave my hands at my side, hanging limply. "So fuck me, Warren. I need to feel alive." 

"As you wish, Alex," Warren breathed, taking me by the hips and urging me down upon the bed, tonguing my bellybutton until I consented to laying flat upon my back. "Men so rarely get what they dream, isn't that right? But sometimes we need a little fantasy, a little break from the world with someone who understands how much it hurts to be so solitary. I understand that you're hurting, Alex, and I understand that in the morning you are going to leave me before I even wake up, ashamed for giving into the pleasures of the flesh. I'll be all right, Alex, and I want you to be comfortable with tonight." Warren leaned against my strong frame, arms resting beside each ear as he whispered his confession into my soul. "Because tonight, Alex, I am going to make love to you, and tomorrow this will become only a dream once more." 

And he kissed me, a slow and passionate massage of wet lips, so unlike that first devastating embrace. I opened my mouth to him, spreading my legs around his hips as he gave me pleasure. I moaned under the sinful determination of his body, and I believed, if only for a second, that his world revolved around me and mine around his. 

As his lips moved down my body, kissing every part that I offered to him, I found my fingers twisted so tightly in the sheets that I lost sensation in all parts of my frame save for my groin, which pulsed hard with life, dancing against Warren's belly as he spun my world around. 

Nipping and sucking, he lapped each of my ribs before moving to that smooth curve from chest to hip, following the arch with his lips as my legs raised higher upon his body, circling his torso. With a quick shrug, my calves came to rest on his shoulders and he lifted himself into a kneeling position, looking down at me with care. 

"Alex, there's a tube of lubricant on the table beside your head. Will you get it for me, lover?" Transfixed by that rich, melodic voice, I nodded and reach back blindly, grabbing it and pressing it to Warren's outstretched hand. "And Alex, will you hand me the condoms?" 

I would do anything he asked if only he would rid me of this incredible burning in my groin, and I nearly swallowed my own tongue when, after mere seconds, I felt a finger slip passed the tight ring of muscle, completely taking me unaware and erasing any trepidation. When a second one followed, I felt my hips lifting to meet the decisive stroke of his hand, and Warren smiled, thrusting gently into my body until I was close to tears, my cock sobbing hard against my belly. 

"Relax, Alex," Warren soothed, rubbing my taut abdomen as he settled completely between my legs, his other hand busy in places I could not see. I jumped slightly when I felt the head of his dick against my anus, but the fingers on my skin, stroking sublimely, calmed my nerves and I let out a deep breath. "There. Let me fuck you like you asked, Alex." 

My name, when he said it, was like a thousand caresses and I began to press down upon him, taking him in further and faster than he intended, inciting a startled smile from his lips. Impatient, I moved against him again, wanting to be fucked like he promised. It was odd, never having been one for ass-play, much to Lorna's relief, but it was incredible, this total sense of oneness with him as he filled me completely with heat. 

Warren rocked his hips against mine, slowly, and I responded with zeal, ready for more, wanting to feel the earth shake. Warren leaned forward, bending my thighs to my chest, and I moaned loudly, hearing my cries get swallowed by that sweet mouth. Hitting that spot of blinding passion, I groaned again, thrusting onto him. 

And the world was torn from its axis as the thrusts of his dick inside my body pushed deeper into me, slow and casual strokes quickly transforming into a primitive, almost feral, union of bodies as our mouths pressed together, bruising lips and feeling no pain. 

I came explosively, gasping as the feeling hit me so completely unaware that I could only stare stupidly into those piercing blue eyes, able only to show how much I was able to feel in that split second, and Warren arched his back, throwing his wings in the air, as he came without sound, looking to the heavens if only to make sure the world was where we left it. We collapsed together, lying there as sleep slowly settled upon our weary bodies, and my last thoughts were of the morning, of what I would say and do when faced with the reality and not the dream. 

I was gone before sunrise.


End file.
